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Lincoln, Joseph Crosby, 1870-1944

"Shavings"

"You don't
say! . . . Well, I-- Eh, what is it, Jed?"
If any one had been watching Jed particularly during the recent few
minutes they might have observed in his face the dawning of an idea
and the changing of that idea into a set purpose. The idea seemed
to dawn the moment after he saw Captain Hunniwell coming up the
walk. It had become a purpose by the time the captain rattled the
latch. While Captain Sam and the major were speaking he had
hastened to the old desk standing by the wall and was rummaging in
one of the drawers. Now he came forward.
"Sam--" he began, but broke off to address Mr. Babbitt, who was
striding toward the door. "Don't go, Phin," he cried. "I'd rather
you didn't go just this minute. I'd like to have you stay. Please."
Phineas answered over his shoulder. The answer was a savage snarl
and a command for "Shavings" to mind his own business. Grover
spoke then.
"Mr. Babbitt," he suggested, "don't you think you had better stay a
moment? Mr. Winslow seems to wish it."
Babbitt reached for the handle of the door, but Grover's hand was
lightly laid on his shoulder.
"Do stay, Mr. Babbitt," begged the Major, sweetly. "To oblige me,
you know."
Phineas swore with such vehemence that the oath might have been
heard across the road. What he might have said thereafter is a
question.


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